


Am I/You Are (Home)

by khirimochi (NekoAisu)



Series: posthumous [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sin Eater Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Sin Eaters (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/khirimochi
Summary: “My friend,” he wishes to call, “please, do not do this to those you care for.” but he is no fool, as irresponsible and terrible as his last indulgence may be. He knows those chains are of the Warden’s own making.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light
Series: posthumous [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1266878
Kudos: 25





	Am I/You Are (Home)

**Author's Note:**

> [YELLS INTO THE BETWEEN] GIVE ME BACK MY BOY!!!!!!
> 
> was blasting AURORA's A Different Kind Of Human album the entire time so this is less than coherent;;
> 
> big thank you to the demons chat for listening to me scream about music and go feral no fewer than eight times within the hour. ilu.

There is a silence that creeps in from the sky. It drips down particle by particle, luciferous and damning in its power, and poisons even the farthest reaches of Norvrandt with its curse. With each day that passes, the people become quieter, calmer, less… awake. They function, still, but it is simply a matter of time until they grind to a halt. The Crystal Tower can only do so much to stem the New Flood’s invasion into the Crystarium.

Waves of Light lap at the Exarch’s toes when he ventures any farther than the plaza, the aether so concentrated he can scarcely imagine it was once contained within one mortal man. It burns cold against his skin when he wades out into it, but can never get much farther than knee-deep before the Tower forces him back into its blessedly dark halls. It purges the Light from his body with new stretches of golden crystal isolating the Light from his vital aether. It takes more from him the longer he waits. 

But he cannot bear to leave and admit his failure. 

The new Warden does not visit them. It is the epicenter of the newfound Flood, the one whose heartbeat sends waves crashing outward. Those intrepid enough to seek it out always come back changed. Some come striding out from the water, all gold and ivory where they had been mortal before, but some come stumbling back into the Crystarium with ears that echo the crashing of waves until it drives them mad. 

_ “Free me,”  _ the Warden calls.  _ “I can grant succor to all.” _

The Exarch does not heed its call. He longs to. He  _ burns  _ to. But he does not. The siren call continues and many of their number give themselves over to the current, wading out in the middle of their impossible, eternal day to soothe their pains one damning step at a time. He opens the Tower doors to bright eyes and myriad fins more often than not. The lesser Eaters chirp at him, whistling and clicking in the pin-drop quiet world. They are the loudest thing around. Even the ebb and flow of the tide is silent. 

He holds out until the Light no longer allows him to open the Tower doors. He decides─in a fit of folly, of nostalgia, of  _ guilt─ _ that he will join the Warden. He opens the doors and feels the water rush over his feet. The Tower shudders and spits, aether rushing to his fingertips at it commands he cleanse it. He is its steward, not its master. It is his duty to listen and bend at the knee. 

But he is also a king on his own right. He will not be brought to heel. 

The first step sees his crystal stiffening, refusing to let him follow through on his decision, but he forces past it, clunking and clicking his way down one step and then the next. As the Light burns against him, he thinks of where he would like to be and allows himself to be carried to the heart of the Tempest. The aetheryte is less a lodestone and more a core when he falls out of the current. The Warden looks down at him, one sightless eye already larger than the entirety of the Exarch’s body. It blinks and in the split second that its eyes are closed, the Exarch is reminded that they used to be friends, once upon a time. 

With its eyes closed, the Warden looks not all too different from Fahmi. He may be larger than your average fortress, now, but he looks serene as ever. He reaches out, speaking in such an intrinsic way it resonated within the Exarch’s very aether, and asks,  _ “Will you free me? The weight is too much for my shoulders. Will you leave me to drown?” _

“My friend,” he wishes to call, “please, do not do this to those you care for.” but he is no fool, as irresponsible and terrible as his last indulgence may be. He knows those chains are of the Warden’s own making. They wind up from the ocean floor and wrap around his arms, his legs, his neck, wherever they can find purchase. Each link glows. Where they press against its skin, they sink in ever so slightly, fed by the Warden’s own aether. 

It refuses to be freed. 

The Exarch sighs and it feels odd. He has not needed to breathe since his lungs were consumed by crystal. He swims against the ever-present  _ thump  _ of the Warden’s heartbeat and lays a hand on its cheek. “I am here,” he says. “I am here and you are not alone.”

_ “Oh. So you have come home.” _

“Home?”

The Warden nods.  _ “Home.” _

The Tempest is what it considers home? Fahmi was a child raised among the Twelveswood and on the decks of merchant ships. He said, once, that he is afraid to swim too deep within the sea, lest he find the things he lost. The depths of the Tempest are not his home. 

_ “Come to me, old friend. I have much to tell you, now that I have remembered.” _

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ There are things Fahmi said he had forgotten. The how and why are unknown to the Exarch just as they had been to G’raha Tia. If he remembered, maybe there will be a way to understand the Eater, maybe stop it from drowning all those it had once strove to protect. He accepts even as his crystal turns green then white then golden. He would listen, tucked close to his old friend’s side. They can while away the days unto eternity. 

_ “Here is the first of the things I have learned. In it, the world does not hurt. Would you like to hear it?” _

“Of course,” he answers, slowly slipping into the comforting rocking of the tide. “I will listen to anything you have to share.”

_ “I will protect you for as long as you listen. You are home.” _

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on:  
> Twitter [@khirimochi](https://twitter.com/khirimochi) OR [@TheHolyBody (NSFW)](https://twitter.com/TheHolyBody)  
> Tunglr @[Main](https://kiriami.tumblr.com) OR @[FFXIV Imagines](https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com)


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